


Long Way Down

by betterprepared



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: 2x08 coda, Angst, Based Off Of Promo, Episode Related, Love Is The Devil, M/M, So much angst, Suicidal Alec, Suicidal Thoughts, episode coda, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterprepared/pseuds/betterprepared
Summary: Based off of the promo for 2x08.Alec knows that what Clary's saying is true. Up on the roof of Magnus's building, sick with guilt, Alec contemplates taking that one final step off the edge into the night sky. Until, at least, he hears the door to the roof click behind him. Will Magnus manage to bring him back from the edge?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty so this is a dramatized version of my predictions for next episode.
> 
> There is absolutely no violence, no graphic language, no descriptive suicide attempt in this at all, I promise this to you, more cautious readers like myself. 
> 
> Also, I much prefer the idea that Magnus stopped Alec from taking ~the sex step~ at the end of the last episode, they totally just made out and fell asleep next to each other instead. Just a bit of background to some stuff that's mentioned later on! 
> 
> Comment, kudos, give me your love. Enjoy!

_“Everything that has happened lately is because of you Alec!”_

_“Clary, I-“_

_“You’re nothing but a murderer!”_  
-  
Alec burst out into the cold night air, the door to the roof slamming behind him with a clang. He wrapped his arms around himself, digging his nails into his sides to try and keep him grounded, to try and keep his thoughts straight. 

Clary’s words were pounding in his head, pressing against his skull. She was right. He was a murderer. Even if he hadn't been the one to rip a hole in her gut, he had let the demon into the institute. He can't stop thinking about all of the the opportunities he had had to prevent Jocelyn's death; if only he’d been more wary of what was being brought into the institute, if only he’d cracked down on security, if only he’d had the strength to overcome his possession- if only- if only- if only-

He brought a hand to his head, pressing against the sharp ache that was spidering across his brain. Every thought was coming to him at once; so much so that it _hurt._

For weeks he’d been pushing back the things that, deep down, he had known all along. He’d focused on the present, the demons he had to fight, the people he had to save; only what Clary had said had broken down the walls he had so carefully built up, and very suddenly everything is slamming into his conscience at once.

It was his fault that he had brought so much shame on his family; it was his fault that the cup got taken and Lydia got hurt; it was his fault that Valentine took Jace; it was his fault that the demon got into the institute; it was his fault that Jocelyn – Clary’s mother – was dead, Clary nearly dying trying to get her back…everything – _everything_ – was his fault. 

Alec’s hand slid from his face from his mouth, silencing the harsh breathing that echoed across the roof and forcing back the lump in his throat. His chest was constricting, aching with the thought of the messes he had made. Squeezing his eyes together, he pressed a hand harder over his mouth as his lower lip started to tremble. He couldn’t cry, not when he had done this to himself. 

The sound of Max’s laugh of _“Mom!”_ brought him to. His voice was far away, echoing into the sky from Magnus’s apartment down below. Alec opened his eyes at the innocence in Max’s tone, affection, and yet, pure regret, coating his gut like treacle. He used to talk to Maryse like that, with a bright, loving lilt to his voice. She used to talk to him in much the same way. She was by no means the perfect mother, but Alec would do so much to earn back the love she only ever saved for when her children were young. 

He moved his hand from his mouth to rake through his hair, swallowing bitterly. The Brooklyn skyline began to tilt as he stepped out further onto the roof. Perhaps he shouldn’t have drank as much as he did. Perhaps, Alec thinks fleetingly, that’s why all of these thoughts are hitting him so suddenly. He can’t even drink alcohol right. 

His feet keep moving across the roof, and Alec barely even realizes when he’s at the edge. There's a risen ledge lining the roof, keeping him from walking straight off into the Brooklyn street below, but it’s not the ground that Alec’s looking at, it’s the horizon. 

The thoughts screaming in his head begin to slowly drown out as Alec gazes at the image that lies before him. It’s beautiful, skyscrapers reaching for the ink black sky, lined in purples and oranges from the streetlights below. Stars are littered across the night, swimming amongst the colors in Alec’s alcohol infused vision. His panic is smothered by the utter beauty of what he can see. His heart, only moments ago speeding with fear, is gentle, beating lazily in his chest. 

A thought, drifting at the back of his mind reminds him that it is unlikely that things will ever go back to the way they were now. His mistakes have been addressed, revealed to himself, and to those he loves, and there will never be any way of shielding himself from that. 

He wants to stay like this forever, in this blissfully numb state he’s feeling right now, 17 storeys up, gazing at the stars over Brooklyn. 

Alec releases a shaky breath, eyes flickering down to the streets below. A strange feeling unfolds in his gut. Maybe he could stay this way. The streetlamps below look just like the stars after all. Maybe it would be best if he just…if he just…

Alec takes a shaky step up onto the ledge and looks down. A heat blooms behind his eyeballs, the knot returning to his throat. Alec was sick of breaking noses and forcing everyone else to suffer the consequences. 

Then, came the sound of the door to the roof, opening with a soft click. 

Alec thinks dully that he should be stepping back, with excuses and reassurances tumbling from his mouth. But he’s just so tired. He can barely think, he can barely move at all. 

There is a hitch of breath from way behind him, audible even over the bustle of the city street below. Alec begins to regret not moving away, but still, he finds himself frozen, unwilling to allow himself to satisfaction of doing so. 

“Alexander?” 

The sound of a familiar voice, usually filled with such warmth and love, is heartbreaking. Magnus’s voice is weak, gripped with fear. It’s because of Alec, because of what he’s doing, he’s hurting someone else- again- and Alec can feel his chest aching with shame. 

“I-“ the warlock’s voice starts and stops with a stutter. The only sound is of the cars below as a silence stretches between them. It is several moments before Magnus speaks again, his voice shaking, “Why are you up there?”

A resolve breaks in Alec. He lets out a harsh breath, more of a hushed sob than anything. “I don’t know,” he replies, voice welling with emotion.

“Alec-“ there’s a swallow from behind him, a shaking intake of breath, “I’m going to come closer, is that alright?” 

Alec nods, tears tumbling down his cheeks. He hates that Magnus sounds so vulnerable, he hates that he made him sound that way. 

“Alexander…” Magnus says, his voice a little closer now. From this distance Alec can hear the emotion in his voice much more clearly, “Why don’t you come down, darling? We an carry this on, where- where you’re safe-“ Magnus’s voice cracks at his words. It is the first time Alec has heard him so afraid.

Alec takes a harsh breath in, difficult against the lump in his throat, “I can’t go back down there,” he says, voice trembling, the lamplights below him still swimming in his vision. “What Clary said, she’s right,” the tears are coming fast now, a thickness of emotion swelling in Alec’s lungs, “I can’t stop thinking of everything I took from her,” he chokes, “I’m a murderer, Magnus,”

“No- Darling, you're not,” Magnus reassures, voice thickening with tears, “You were possessed- it wasn’t your fault-” 

“It’s not just that though is it?” Alec interrupts, “It’s everything! The cup, Jace…I- I nearly got Clary killed,” the words tumble out, soaked in alcohol but nevertheless true, “I hurt Lydia, I hurt you- and even now- even now I’ve got my act together and I’m treating you right-“ the night before flashes in his vision, Magnus gently pushing him back, rejecting his advances for sex. His words end in a shamed whisper, “I’m still messing it up,” 

His words echo into the night sky. Magnus is silent for a few moment before speaking again, “Alexander,” he says softly, “Darling, you could never mess up what I feel for you,”  


Magnus’s voice is pleading, begging with the shadowhunter to believe him, “And as for everything else…Alec there is nothing that you can be blamed for,” 

Alec is about to protest before Magnus interrupts, “Valentine is the one at fault. He is the one that people are blaming – not you,” Magnus pauses, “In fact, I came up here to tell you that I believe that Clary has been put under some sort of manipulation spell. Catarina is examining her in my room as we speak,” 

Though there is a craving to believe Magnus’s words, Alec shakes his head, “She looked like she meant it,” he says quietly, “She would have every right to,” The shame radiates off him as he looks to the ground, tears falling from his face and making marks on the ledge beneath his feet. 

“Alexander do you trust me?” Magnus asks softly. It’s a shock to Alec how quickly the reply comes to him. _Yes._ He trusts Magnus with his life, and he nods his head in a reply.

“Then trust me when I say that Clary was not herself down there,” Magnus says, “I promise you Alec, she doesn’t blame you,”

Alec doesn’t know how to respond, thinking so loud he’s sure Magnus can hear him. He knows he is to blame for Jocelyn, he knows he is to blame for so, so many things - but there is a part of him that wants, _needs_ Magnus to be right when he says Alec isn’t totally at fault. But then, that's not entirely true...The headache is beginning to return, the thoughts, the blame beginning to whir once more, and the frustration of his situation is overwhelming. 

“Darling, please come down,” Magnus whispers, “You’re putting yourself in danger, and those people downstairs – they need you,” there's a pause before he speaks again, voice quieter this time, “I need you. More than anything right now,” 

Alec doesn’t know what to say. Even if he did, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to open his mouth without sobbing openly into the night. 

His silence leaves for the sound of slow footsteps, approaching from behind. He can feel Magnus’s presence getting closer, but warily so, as if approaching a frightened animal. 

“I’m here Alexander,” Magnus says softly. Alec feels the brush of his fingertips against his hand. He aches to grasp it, bury himself in the warlock’s neck, but, tear stained, drunk, and shamed, he can’t face him. He isn’t what Magnus deserves. 

“I’m begging you- please. Come down,” Alec closes his eyes. “Alec, I need you,” 

Alec’s heart aches. He needs Magnus too, a selfish part within him needs Magnus too. Slowly, he reaches out and grasps his boyfriend’s outstretched hand. The guilt of his selfishness hits him as he does so, but Magnus’s grip is vice like; he’s not letting go. It’s clammy with sweat, the warlock squeezing his hand as tight as Izzy used to when watching horror movies as kids, but it offers Alec a relief that brings tears to his eyes. 

“I need you too,” he chokes out, turning to look at the Warlock over his shoulder. Magnus’s face is positively grey with fear, tear tracks staining his skin, 

“Then please,” Magnus says, eyes locked, unmoving on Alec’s, “Please come down Alec, I'm begging you,” 

Alec swallows, and tries not to think. Not breaking his eyes from Magnus’s face, the fear that he may turn back to the Brooklyn street all too real, Alec steps backwards from the ledge, legs trembling. As he does so, Magnus lets out a ragged breath of relief. The warlock looks utterly wrecked, and with his feet back on safe ground, Alec realizes with a growing panic just how serious a situation he had just been in. 

The fear begins to swell into his chest, and the tears are coming again, throat tightening rapidly. Magnus face creases with a shared pain, and before anything can be said, he’s pulling Alec to him fiercely, wrapping his arms around his neck and cradling the shadowhunter’s head against his shoulder.

“I’m here Angel,” Magnus whispers as Alec's dam breaks, and he sobs openly into the warmth of Magnus's neck, “I’m here,”


End file.
